


Clockwork

by Virtual_Reality



Series: Steve and Bucky through the years [23]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Movie Night, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Flirts, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, POV Bucky Barnes, Sexual Frustration, Tony cameo, Unresolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:06:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4694909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtual_Reality/pseuds/Virtual_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a series, and probably won't make sense alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clockwork

**Author's Note:**

> Surprised myself by finishing this today. I did a quick edit, but I wanted to get it up while my mood was decent. Thanks for your sweet words of encouragement and patience, and as always, I apologize for the title.

James startles awake, panting heavily as he slowly regains awareness of his surroundings. He's in bed, sticky, and naked, a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his skin. His human furnace is beside him, still snoring softly against the back of his neck. He's safe - he actually couldn't be safer - but it's nearly three. By now, the night life scene has quieted, but the day has not yet begun. It's the very middle of the hauntingly dead hours of night, and James is awake, like so many times before, yet somehow it never became dull. Every night he found himself in the same place - like clockwork - soaking in the lingering anxiety, fighting off the panic attacks, hunched over in the bed, shivering, still waiting for the thoughts of his nightmares to subside, the icy ghost of lingering terror still tingling down his spine.

He's sweating, especially where he and Steve touch, and the air feels cold on his damp skin. He wants to shower, to scrub the phantom chill from his skin, but he can't leave the bed, can't bear to leave the sanctuary of Steve's radiated warmth, and it seems wrong to wake him at three in the morning for a shower.

Two hours, and he can leave, An hour and a half, and he can wake Steve, lure him into the shower before his morning run. Maybe ask if he'll stay long enough to eat breakfast with him... it would be worth a shot. He can make it an hour with Steve there, and altogether, he'd actually slept better than usual. More combined hours than all week. Of course he had Steve to thank for that, wearing him down right before bed, and being a warm presence all night - they both slept better when it was warm - but even with the fear still fresh in him, he can find it in himself to be happy.

James shivers as the lingering chills leave his body, and sighs at the relief it brings, pressing back into Steve for that warmth, wincing when he stirs awake, stretches out, but sighs contentedly when Steve curls himself around his back, puts an arm around his waist, and seemingly falls right back to sleep. He stays still a few minutes just to be sure, but when he looks over his shoulder, Steve's eyes are open, narrow, and unfocused but slowly drifting to meet his.

Nothing is said, James just lays his head back and tries to relax while Steve shifts around, pushing himself up, and stretching, and just as he begins to think Steve's surrendered to being awake, he drapes his warm body over Bucky's, and hugs him to his chest, kissing his ear. James thinks it must be the best feeling in the world, having Steve lay on him, and he can't help but snuggle back into the warmth comfortably. He doesn't intend to fall back asleep, but the fear dissolved with the chill on his skin, and he drifts off into a blissfully dreamless sleep. The next thing he knows, Steve is pressing warm kisses to his face: his nose, his eyelids, his cheeks, and James felt a stir of interest inside him before he's even fully awake. He stretched out, sighing contentedly. "Hello there." he murmurs around a yawn, shivering once when Steve nibbles his jaw. "Good morning to you, too."

Steve snorts, and ruffles his already sleep rumpled sex hair, "I'm going for a run." He whisperers, "Might not see you before I head out."

"Yeah, okay." He sighs, and stretches up for a kiss. "Except, no," he whispers, humming around another kiss, "Mmm..." He hooks a leg over Steve's, and pulls him back into bed, pressing his morning wood against Steve's thigh with an almost lazy rock of his hips. "You meeting Sam?"

"Still in DC." Steve murmurs between sleepy kisses. "Just me today."

"Perfect." Bucky says, and his voice is husky with sleep, as deep as it is soft, and when he pulls Steve down for another kiss, he meets no resistance.

Steve's put on his jogging pants and a thin blue shirt, but Bucky's still bare from the evenings activities, and that's not fair at all. He gets a hand under his shirt, and rubs a slow path down his spine. There was no resistance from Steve, he melts into it, less frantic than last night, but no less interested, sucking on a tender spot beneath James' ear, leaving a tingling path down his neck, and he really hopes he's making an effort not to leave marks.

Bucky put his legs around Steve's waist, heels digging into his back to press him closer, and Steve's hands fit around his ribs, pressing up towards his shoulders, and his lips on James' neck awaken flutters of excitement deep inside him. Steve's hips press against his, rolling slowly in response to his lazy rubbing, and he sucks on his neck, gentle and sleepy, Bucky's making soft content noises.

Squirming against him, hands pressing him closer, pushing slowly down his back, past sweatpants and boxers to knead his ass. Bucky sighs, a content smile on his lips. "Breakfast in bed." He murmurs, and Steve chuckles softly. They're both smiling when Steve pulls back, and Bucky pulls him in. Steve breathes the softest laugh as their lips brush, very softly at first, but gradually increasing in intensity as James eases him in. He has him focused in seconds, in two, deep, open mouthed kisses, and he goes in for more.

It's deep from the very start, burning with the kind of passion that demands a fierce response, just enough to keep Steve on his toes, then a little more in his battle for control. He knows he's good, and between Steve's honesty and his pride, it was all too easy to fight dirty.

Steve's movements slow, then stop altogether, perhaps unconsciously as he focuses his energy, pouring himself into their kiss. At the same time, he cups Bucky's face, trying to contain his passion, and it's as fruitless as trying to tame a wildfire. The heat only spreads, blazing over Steve's body, seeping into his skin, flames lapping at his insides, and he burns willingly, effortlessly dominated by Bucky's kiss.

Steve breaks away for air, and Bucky grins. "Amateur," he barely manages to gasp, though he's panting harder than Steve.

"I miss this," Steve murmurs against his neck while he calms, "I miss you," he says, "all the time." He kisses his chest, "Miss having you all to myself..." He moves up, kisses Bucky's lips, straddling his hips, and Bucky suppresses his laughter when Steve's fingers dance along his sides. "So damn much...."

James bats his hands away, and rolls over, shivering delicately when Steve attaches his mouth to his shoulder, hips rutting forward until he's flush with Bucky's ass, and with a gasp, they're rocking together. Bucky pressing back, reaching for Steve, who props his chin on Bucky's shoulder, hand searching around his waist to massage him to full hardness.

Bucky's moan is resounding, rumbling deep in his chest as he presses back against Steve, wanting, and eager. His face is flushed and so hot, and he let his head fall back on Steve's shoulder, pressing as close as he can get. Steve's hands leave him, and he's fumbling to get his pants off, to get skin on skin contact, and Bucky groans. There's a pause, and they kiss, over Bucky's shoulder, and Steve grasps his waist, and again, they move together, with and against one another, Steve sucking Bucky's already swollen lower lip until they break apart, and moving to his neck, his ear, nibbling and sucking gently, and Bucky growls softly, hips pressing forward into Steve's palm, eyes fluttering open, and he's panting softly, grinding back against the swell of Steve's still clothed erection. Steve gasps softly against his neck, hips rutting forward in response, craving the sweet friction, arm bracing around Bucky's chest, and he curses softly, "Get the lube, baby." He whispers, only then releasing him from his hold.

Bucky crawls to the edge, tangled in bedsheets, and Steve, and he reaches, opens a drawer, shuffling the contents for a minute before he surrenders, and snatches up the small tub of Vaseline. "Next time you visit, bring lube," Bucky pants "I'm sick of trying' to- Oh shit!" Bucky gasps, eyes falling on the clock for a few seconds. "Shit."

Steve is at his shoulder in a second, and Bucky's instantly fighting his way out of cotton bedsheets.

"Shit. Fucking. Fuck. Good-for nothing piece of shit alarm clock. I have to go. I need a shower... I have to... Fuck."

"Go," Steve says, flipping over onto his back, panting and mussed, track clothes twisted and lopsided from where they've pushed them out of the way leaving exposed patches of creamy skin that Bucky's fingers itched to touch. "Shower first." Steve says, arm thrown across his eyes as he tries to calm down, "She'd rather you be late. Trust me."

James showers in half the time he usually does, though he could probably use one twice the usual length. He dressed hastily, and his body still feels damp beneath the suit, and he can't stand the sensation of clammy skin it creates. Steve helps with his tie after the buttons, and there's no hope for his wet hair, but James knows he's shown up for work looking worse. Never this horny before, and he's sure it's going to be an uncomfortable day, but Steve will probably help with that during lunch-

Right, he was leaving again.

It was not going to be a fun day.

"Good morning, Miss Potts, can I get you anything? Bucky asks, poking his head in her office.

She looks up from her computer, taking a moment to collect her thoughts, "Can I talk you into bringing me some tea?" She smiles, almost apologetically.

He nods simply, and steps out. He knows she feels guilty asking him for things that weren't part of his job description, which was about eighty percent of what he does, but Bucky doesn't mind. He was raised to work hard, and trained even more after that, and when he's on the clock, he needs to be working.

"I need to meet with you to discuss the arrangements for next week." She says when he places the mug on a coaster, "Let's say... Break room in an hour?"

"Yes, ma'am." He says, placing two sugar packets beside the cup, "I'll be just outside if you need anything." And he steps out.

This weekend, he decides, this weekend, he'll tell Steve.

The break room isn't built for meetings, but the conference rooms aren't built for food, so they have their low security meetings at the small table in the break room, where Clint and Tony are having coffee. Pepper sips tea, and schedules the day meticulously while James jots down notes in a notebook (He'll type them later, but he's faster with a pen.) so he can meet with Happy to discuss security procedures for the weekend.

That's where he is when he hears from Steve again, trying to scrape together a decent breakfast between notes, and get fine details on the interviewing process. He's never escorted Miss Potts without Happy, and the idea of crowds still stresses him, but he's working towards it.

Steve seems relieved when he finds him, but James doesn't know why. He's actually still pretty irritated about his post-fooling-around teasing that morning while he was trying to calm down. It wasn't fair.

Steve waits for an opportunity, and Bucky tries not to seem irritated when Pepper gives him a window. He steps up to his side, lowering himself to James level, talking quickly and quietly so he wouldn't bother their progress, "Baby, I gotta get home." Steve rubs his back gently, "Neighbors called about Beau. Said she won't eat. I gotta get back and check on her."

"Yeah." Bucky says softly, ignoring the stab of disappointment he felt. "Have a safe trip."

Steve frowns, "Hey, I'm sorry." He says, cupping his chin gently, "You know I hate leaving you like this, but I have to go."

"I'm fine," He said, but it didn't sound convincing, "I could always just go to the museum this evening," He notes dryly, "they have a real good exhibit," he deadpans, "I could always jerk off there."

Tony snorts, and Bucky shoots him a glare. Steve flushes, but otherwise, remains composed, "You're not funny." He says quietly, and smooth his collar down. "See you." He stands.

"Yeah."

Steve pauses and stares at him a minute, before leaning in, tipping Bucky's face up to kiss his lips gently, ignoring the soft murmurs from his teammates. He expected no less. "Love you." Steve murmurs, and lingers only a moment longer before he's walking out.

Pepper's eyes are averted, but James has never been more uncomfortable in his life. He's upset, and hurt, and embarrassed, and frustrated.

"Have you told him?" Pepper asks, gathering her papers into a stack.

Bucky looks down at his clasped hands. "No."

"You should," she says. "Soon."

"Yes, ma'am."

The work day is slow after that, giving James enough time to think without giving his mind a great distance to wander.

The moment he clocks out, Natasha is there, tugging him towards the door. He's confused, but he treads after her silently. He's given enough time to change clothes - with Natasha waiting just outside, assuring him he couldn't weasel his way out of this - and they both meet Clint downstairs. He's figured it out by the time they get through the heavy traffic.(Though it doesn't take long with Natasha driving.) Steve had done this. He's asked the two of them to kidnap him for the evening so he wouldn't pout. He's being babysat again.

So, logically, Bucky should pout anyway. Because this wasn't fair at all.

"Steve put you up to this, didn't he?" Bucky says, pushing his fries absentmindedly around with a fork. They're in what appears to be a nice restaurant, the prices support this theory, but nothin' in New York was cheap. The food wasn't anything special, though, and they dressed his burger up nicer than any James has ever seen for whatever reason, and it makes him mad for no good reason at all.

Natasha gives him a long, unreadable look, "We're your friends, too, Barnes. Don't jump to conclusions." She stabs a piece of lettuce with her fork.

"I don't need to go through the babysitting thing again. I'm fine."

"Babysitting?" Clint looks up from his own burger, "I never babysat you. We were having an affair, remember?"

Resolutely, James doesn't smile.

Clint purses his lips, and Natasha hides her smile with a sip of water. "Steve didn't tell us anything," Clint continues, only subtly disappointed "just thought you might want to spend time together. Y'know. Given how in love we are with each other." He gives James a once over, and frowns, "but if you eat fries with a fork, we can't be friends anymore, man. It's over."

Bucky drops his fork, and Natasha snorts. "Should I leave you two alone to work things out?" Her smirk is somehow deadpan, but there's humor in her eyes. "Or are you actually going to eat?"

"Those jokes aren't funny when Steve isn't here." Bucky snaps, but on Natasha's prompting, he finally tucks into his burger.

"Especially when he takes your personality with him." Clint murmurs, muffled by a mouthful of fries.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and tries not to let that bother him.

They watch a movie together with a few others that had gathered together on one of the communal floors when they get home, and it's late when James, exhausted and numb, finally retires, all but oblivious to the plot line of the movie he'd just seen.

James startles awake, skin clammy and cold as he stares into the dark room, alone in the midst of the cold empty sheets, shivers pushing incessantly through his body, the chill bone-deep and painful beneath Steve's sweatshirt which did little to warm the ice cold blood that pulsed through his veins, or soothe the ache in his chest, and the tightness in his throat. It wasn't fair, how much he missed Steve. He turned onto his side, and tugged the blanket closer, trying to block out the fear Steve's arms protected him from.

It would be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, that quick edit I talked about was during/after watching a documentary about the Titanic. So, if parts of it sound like it was written in 100 year old english.... Yeah...
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
